No More Waiting, She Chooses Love

Ernest came over in no time, his gaze natural and straightforward as he met mine. "Let's go."

What? He didn't even bother to explain why he wanted to move in so close to me. I wanted to ask but felt it awkward to bring it up out of the blue.

"Mr. Collins, what's the deal with moving so close to us?" Ever the blabbermouth, Deborah did the asking for me.

Ernest headed to the elevator, pressing the call button. I noticed his room key. It was 308, right next to mine.

"Just convenient," Ernest said.

Convenient for what? It certainly left room for the imagination.

Deborah was puzzled, too, sneaking glances between Ernest and me, then probing further, "Mr. Collins, convenient for what exactly?"

I wanted to knock some sense into Deborah. Was she always this curious, needing to dig to the bottom of everything?

The elevator doors gleamed, reflecting our figures. I caught Ernest's eyes in the mirror, and for a moment, he locked eyes with me before swiftly looking away, replying to Deborah, "Everything's just more convenient."ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .

His answer left Deborah and me at a loss for words.

Deborah fell silent after that, merely tugging at the hem of my shirt. It felt like a sly fox caught by an experienced hunter.

We quickly reached the third floor, heading our separate ways. Deborah said goodbye to Ernest cheerfully before entering our room. "Mr. Collins, if you need anything, call me."

"Okay."

Ernest entered his room without another word.

As soon as the door closed, Deborah was all over me. "Girl, what's the deal with Mr. Collins? Moving so close, does he have some ulterior motive? What if he's a wolf in sheep's clothing, planning something against us?"

It was rare for Deborah to show such self-preservation despite her usual head-in-the-cloud demeanor.

While her caution might prevent her from getting too obsessed, I feared it would affect her work. I quickly dispelled her worries. "Mr. Collins is not like that!"

Deborah blinked in surprise. "How can you be so sure he's not?"

Faced with her curiosity, I regretted speaking too soon and decided to keep conversations with Deborah to a minimum in the future to save my breath.

"Just guessing. I could be wrong. Why don't you find out for yourself?" I teased her.

Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "Really? I might take you up on that..."

Then, I reached for a cushion on the sofa and lobbed it at her.

Deborah yelped as I retreated to my room, dropping my luggage and heading for the shower.

I stripped down and hopped into the shower.

As the water poured over me, a thought suddenly hit me.

I glanced at my waist, spotting a bruise with hints of purple against my fair skin.

My hand brushed over it, and for a moment, recalled the scene when Ernest's arms were around me shook the image away, forcing my

mind to clear.

I hadn't finished showering when Deborah shouted, "Hey, your phone's ringing."

I turned off the shower. "Who is it?"

Deborah answered, "Don't know. It's an unknown number."

I frowned slightly. "Leave it. It's probably a wrong number."

Whether it was a client, friend, or someone from the Wagner family, even Conrad, I had all their numbers saved.

"Okay," Deborah responded, "How sweet do you want your lemonade?"

"Quarter-sweet," I called back, turning the shower on again.

After another twenty minutes, I emerged and found Deborah headed for her shower.

Towel-drying my hair, I checked my phone and saw the call was from Galaxy Harbor. My mind

immediately went to Ethel, myel??

landlady.

Was she missing us, or was there something she needed?

I dialed back, and after a few rings,

the voice on the other end caught

me off

guard. "Hey, it's me.

you

come over?" It was Ernest

"Something up?" I asked, curiosity piqued.